


Nude Therapy

by Guede



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Arsenal FC, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Injury Recovery, M/M, Public Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guede/pseuds/Guede
Summary: Ramsey needs a little help settling in after coming back from injury.
Relationships: Aaron Ramsey/Wojciech Szczęsny
Kudos: 2





	Nude Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted to LiveJournal in 2012.

“Woj,” Aaron finally managed.

Past midnight. The lights around the edges of the stadium were still on, but everywhere else they were off so you had this little flicker and then great big black patches. It made everything look a little funny anyway, because your eyes kept wanting to go to where the light was, but your mind wondered what was between the tiny glowing lines and between the two things got mucked up. But that was definitely his damned goalkeeper stripping off.

“Woj,” Aaron said again. Maybe he’d just imagined saying it out loud the first time. He was shocked enough, anyway. “Hey! Polish idjit!”

“I hear you,” Woj said back, calm as could be. Just like when they were out there for a match, or training, or something that didn’t involve taking off your shor—oh, my God, that was his.

Just. Kind of outlined in the weird lighting, the unmistakable silhouette, and then thankfully Woj turned around and Aaron was just looking at the black double-hump of the man’s ass. Aaron wondered if he was breathing, realized he was actually breathing way too fast, and made himself stop hyperventilating.

“Aaaah.” Woj stretched his arms out and flapped them around a little. He looked…naked in the dark. “Aaron?”

Aaron was…Aaron was sitting down. And so telling off Robin the next time their courageous captain decided to get some bright idea about team-bonding. Ping-pong tournaments, Aaron could do, even if it mean getting his ass handed to him when he had a choice about it. Team dinners, hell, he’d even slip some Tesco stuff into a baking pan to pass off as homemade. But this Woj without clothes thing, this…just…“What the hell are you doing?”

“Aaron, you think too much. I mean, it is good to think, but right now, your mind…it just sees this and it goes…” Woj made the universal gesture for crazy hamster wheel “…you have to calm down. Your nerve is all wrong.”

“I…right. Yeah, I know. Kind of noticed lately,” Aaron muttered, dropping his arm around his knees. Well, that was one way to get him to stop thinking about naked—

\--Wojtouchinghisarm _nakedwhereisitwhereisitisthatitbymyhead_ breathe. Woj grinned at him like he didn’t even see Aaron’s eyes bugging out of his head, although from his angle, maybe he really couldn’t. The light was going on his face, giving his teeth a sort of fluorescent shark smile effect. “It’s okay.” Woj patted his shoulder some more. “It happens to all of us. But now you…you need to relax.”

“I _know_. I’m trying, okay? It’s not like I haven’t—”

“No, no.” The other man, parts of his body pale and pearly going straight to black, caught Aaron’s flailing hands and pushed them down. “No. You see, this—” he pointed at the field behind him “—this is where you play. But right now, is like where you work, only.”

Aaron bit his lip, because he knew Woj meant well, just like everybody else, but then he kind of forgot himself and smacked Woj’s leg. “Look, I know. You don’t have to tell me again. I’ll get it sooner or later.”

Woj sighed. And smacked Aaron back, right on the head, so when Aaron looked up Woj was getting down in front of him and ohGod eyeful. “No, moron,” Woj said, exasperated. Practically clucking in Aaron’s frozen face. “It’s not—getting it. You just need to—”

“You’re stark fucking naked!” finally exploded out of Aaron. “I need to fucking what with that?”

“Well, next time we’re here, you think about me naked, you don’t think about fucking up,” Woj said. Like some kind of giant, Polish, nude psychic. Bent over Aaron. With his shit out there and not giving a fuck, and even in the comfort of the dressing-room where there was always some kind of unspoken agreement not to…well, it wasn’t that comfortable. Except Woj was, the crazy bastard that he was, and God, Aaron wished he could be like that. “So. Me naked. Okay?”

“Okay,” Aaron said obediently, without thinking. Then he shook his head. He blinked. “Wait. Wait, what? Wait a minute—”

Woj plopped his ass down and slapped his knees, then spread his hands. “What? It doesn’t work?”

“I…well…um…okay, so it…actually, it kind of might. But not that way,” Aaron said weakly. He pulled at the grass. “I mean, you naked…okay, I’m not going to be thinking so hard about…but then I’m going to think about, you know…”

“You won’t,” Woj snorted. “You don’t think about just anybody naked. You think about me. I’m okay, I’m not Mr. Handsome. ‘s why Robin told me to do it.”

“I’m not going to be thinking about your _face_.” And then Aaron wished a zillion ways he could just stop existing right there.

Woj, being him, just took it in. He glanced down, meditatively, already knowing but just wanting to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, and then he looked back up at Aaron’s terrifyingly hot face. He rubbed his chin. “Okay. Maybe not so good an idea.”

“Oh, my _God_.” Worse than fucking Jack sometimes, the—Aaron whacked him on the knee. Overextended the arm while he was at it, his desperation making him overcompensate for the nth time, and Jesus, his hand went there. It did. He was just going to die. Right now.

Right _now_. Like, soon, universe. Before he had to fully think about flopping all over Woj and cuddling the man’s knee like some drunken striker and having to have Woj pull him up so they were going to be face to face in two nanoseconds, and he was still kind of pawing the man, and oh, _fuck it_. Seriously.

Handsome or not, Woj was a hell of a kisser. And also, not averse to groping Aaron on the fucking pitch of their fucking stadium, like some demented fanporn vid, and his ridiculous big goalkeeper hands getting Aaron’s trainers down in no time. _Wow_. That was just…some hand-span. Anyway.

Anyway, Aaron was guaranteed at least five minutes of not having his head up his ass the next time they had a home match. He wasn’t sure yet whether he was just going to figure out another way to embarrass himself, but…it was already worth the try.

“Worked?” Woj said. Maybe that was a little bit of hopefulness creeping into his usual laidback tone, and maybe everybody really had been worried for Aaron, except it could be a little hard to see that, sometimes.

That was, he’d known they were, but it was just…well, different to get real, fucking bonkers, no-clothes proof of it. He had to be honest and shrugged, but he put his chin on Woj’s chest. “But thanks, you know.”

“Hey.” Woj shrugged back, then ran his hand over the top of Aaron’s head. “What I can do. And I think it’ll work.”

“I’m gonna try and believe you, for sure,” Aaron said. He tilted his head to put his cheek down on Woj’s shoulder. Then he tilted it back. “So…Robin actually told you, take Ramsey out here in the middle of the fucking night, strip down and bonk?”

“Well…maybe. Maybe not,” Woj said. His accent thickened comically. “English is not my first language.”

“It’s not his either, you smartass,” Aaron mumbled, looping his arm around Woj’s head. “Whatever. Good job, anyway.”


End file.
